In the City of Sight on Terra, at the heart of the Whispering Tower, the Chamber of the Sight.
One thousand senior Astropaths and two thousand Astropaths gathered around the Choirmaster of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica, Nemo Zhi-Meng.
Every Astropath lay upon a well-defined frame, their minds' eyes opened as they sat on ascending tiers like spectators watching a grotesque theatrical drama.
The Warmaster's betrayal had overturned the galactic order, and the Sigillite and the Praetorian of Terra demanded verifiable information as swiftly as possible.
Expedition fleets capable of shattering star systems and battle fleets carrying tens of billions of Imperial Army soldiers roamed freely across the galaxy, with no one able to pin down their exact coordinates or ascertain where their true allegiances lay.
News of world after world declaring loyalty to the Warmaster reached Terra, yet whether these stories were genuine or mere rebel fabrications remained entirely unknown.
Nemo Zhi-Meng took a sip of mandrake-infused water, digesting the vermilion data.
The Iron Hands had been utterly annihilated. After Ferrus Manus's death, his Legion had scattered to the winds.
Despite repeated confirmations that left no room for error, Nemo Zhi-Meng still could not accept the death of a Primarch, remaining just as shaken as when he first learned of the Warmaster's rebellion and the Isstvan purges.
One impossibility after another had overturned all prior certainties, layering upon each other until he now believed nothing.
No word had come from the Raven Guard, giving weight to the rumors: Corvus Corax and his Legion had been completely destroyed.
The communication ciphers of the Salamanders were the sole reliable source, yet after being relayed through three separate stations, their messages had become equally hard to trust.
The state of the Astropath who transmitted the message seemed highly abnormal; his communications might well have been intercepted or distorted en route.
He wanted to believe that at least some Salamanders had escaped the Isstvan V chaos.
Vulkan's fate remained unknown, with several unconfirmed reports claiming that he had already fallen.
"Choirmaster, Dorn's envoy is pressing us again, demanding you provide an answer immediately."
Nemo Zhi-Meng took another sip of mandrake tea, soothing the pounding in his head.
This was Dorn's twenty-fifth envoy today.
"Tell him I have no concrete news to give him."
"The entire Isstvan system is as dark as a dead moon, no information can enter or leave."
Nemo Zhi-Meng drank a third sip, drew a deep breath to calm his roiling mind, and began wrestling with bewildering symbols and chaotic allegorical concepts.
Boom!
A psychic tsunami caused the Chamber of the Sight to swell, like a plasma reactor whose cooling system had instantly overloaded.
Even as Nemo Zhi-Meng severed his mental link instantly, he still felt the searing shockwave of psychic energy, four hundred bodies incinerated to ash in an instant.
The entire remaining choir screamed in unison, each soul suffering psychic rending.
Their brains burned from within their skulls; their limbs snapped, spines shattered.
They howled like wounded, dying beasts as their nerves were scorched away, and another four hundred were tortured to death.
The life-lights of the Astropaths, another four hundred snuffed out one by one, like candles in a morgue.
The senior Astropaths struggled to maintain defenses against the unknown assault, but cramps seized their bowels, making them shriek in agony.
Nemo Zhi-Meng's defenses were the strongest, but his carefully layered barriers were battered into ruin by the storm.
The psychic vortex shook the Imperial Palace to its foundations; countless irreplaceable statues toppled; shockwaves sent tremors to the surrounding mountain rocks.
Madmen armed with clubs and bricks laid siege to the palace, clashing violently with other mobs of rioters.
The psychic shockwave spread beyond the Roof of the World, madness, terror, and panic swept like a plague to the ends of the earth.
Humanity on Terra once more faced the all-rending Old Night, as genetic memories of that terrifying era surfaced from the deepest reaches of their minds.
Everyone awoke screaming, with tens of millions dying in an instant.
Countless more awoke as hollow husks, having forgotten their lovers, parents, and children.
The bonds of blood vanished from the minds of hundreds of millions.
Nestled at the foot of the Mount Rakaposhi lay a prison maintained by the Adeptus Custodes.
In a long-dead tongue it was called Khangba Marwu, though only the oldest wardens still recalled the name.
Its rock walls were sheathed in adamantium plates, imprisoning the enemies of the Emperor, the most dangerous captives.
The prisoners here knew it only as The Vault.
Some deep within the Vault dated back thousands of years, their names long erased by the Imperium.
Pan-Pacific tyrants and warlords of the Caucasian Wastes had been brought here, the so-called "First Emperor" and the monster known as the Reaper.
Uilleam the Red had conquered a quarter of Terra with his vile followers, but was finally stopped by a mighty warrior army, led by a Nordafrik warlord known as Kibuka.
Kibuka could summon lightning from the clouds and grant his warriors superhuman strength, he himself was imprisoned here.
The Emperor Himself had designed a cell specifically for Narthan Dume, but when the tyrant perished during the final battle that overthrew his inhuman regime, the cell had remained empty ever since.
When the Great Crusade commenced, Khangba Marwu saw no shortage of prisoners: obstinate fools who went against the Emperor, and opportunists who had plundered ruthlessly to advance their own ends.
Before the final security checkpoint preceding the cells of the Primary Gaol of Eternal Darkness, Uttam Luna Hesh Udar, a member of the Adeptus Custodes, came to a halt.
Asava, a Temple Lecturer of the Athenaen Cult of the Thousand Sons, snapped his eyes open. The walls lined with psychic dampeners and suppression collars had never been able to block his awareness.
He had felt the catastrophe his gene-father endured, and now, he sensed the psychic calamity that had resounded across the globe even more clearly. He had touched his father's mind, and seen the desperate motivation behind his actions.
'The time has come.'
Since his imprisonment, he had been weaving an escape plan.
As the most accomplished Athanaean master before Uthizzar, he had already probed every mind within the underground prison, except the Custodes'.
Even including the mortal guards.
He knew that Natagi was a soldier of the Yurian Stormlords, who had fought against southern insurgents since the early days of the Unification Wars.
He also knew that Natagi's wife was raising their five sons at a hydroponic farm on the slopes of Akkad.
Asava had completed his plan without the Custodes ever suspecting. Now, it was time to execute it.
...
At the very moment Asava set his escape in motion, in the underground prison of Albia.
Fel Zharost, former Chief Librarian of the Night Lords, digested the flood of information that had poured into his mind.
It came from the Warp-echoes of the dying Astropaths in the City of Sight; Psykers within ten light-years had all felt that terrifying death shriek.
Some perished within the psychic scream, while others were driven mad, but Fel seized the moment to acquire the latest news.
To his shock, he learned that his former Legion had betrayed the Imperium.
Fel suppressed the turmoil in his heart and looked toward the approaching Shadows of Order.
"Have you come to execute me?"
Captain Keon of the 5th Company, Fourth Chapter of the Shadows of Order, removed his helmet in the darkness and shook his head.
"I am not here to kill you."
"I am here to offer you an opportunity, a chance to serve Lord Nareth."
"Lord Nareth." Fel recalled the one time he had seen Lord Nareth in person.
It was at Nikaea.
Lord Nareth had spoken passionately before the accusers, demanding that the Emperor not punish any Librarian.
The Chief Librarians had rallied to his side, Fel had been among them.
He had never regretted it, even when the Emperor later decreed the dissolution of the Librarius.
For nearly two centuries, Lord Nareth had withstood pressure from all sides across the Imperium, allowing the Librarius to be implemented in most Legions.
"I am willing to serve Lord Nareth." If he was to leave his hiding place and step into the storm, Lord Nareth was the only one he could pledge himself to.
The loyalists would never trust a former member of a traitor Legion.
Keon led Fel back to the safehouse he had established in the Cairo Hive, originally set up to observe Lemuel Gaumon.
After settling Fel, Keon went to the altar, laid down "Euclidean Runes" and a psychic barrier, and prayed to the Black Emperor.
As he chanted for the third time, black mist surged and swallowed him.
Keon found himself in the mysterious realm of black mist. He knelt immediately and reported to the Black Emperor.
"My Lord, I have persuaded Fel Zharost. He is willing to serve You."
"Excellent," the Black Emperor's commanding voice rang out.
"My Lord, a great event has occurred on Terra, a terrible storm has struck the mind of every soul..."
After hearing Keon's report, Nareth immediately understood, just as in his memories, the Emperor could no longer contain the psychic shockwave Magnus had unleashed.
The veil had been briefly torn; the War in the Webway was about to begin.
Recalling the major events on Terra during this period, his eyes suddenly lit up.
"You will go immediately to the foot of Mount Rakaposhi. In the Custodes' prison, certain rebels are held, they are all promising talents. Persuade them to serve me."
"Asava of the Thousand Sons, Severian of the Luna Wolves, Tagore of the World Eaters, the twin brothers Asubha and Subha, Argentus Kiron of the Emperor's Children, and Gythor of the Death Guard."
As he spoke, he sent the seven's information into Keon's mind with a thought.
Nareth remembered that Tagore had torn a fully armed Custodes, Udar, apart with his bare hands.
Normally, a Custodes would outmatch an Astartes with ease.
But there were always exceptional individuals of transcendent combat prowess, and Tagore was one of them.
Severian of the Luna Wolves would have become a Founding Grand Master of the Grey Knights, alongside Fel.
'One Grey Knight Grand Master to claim, two is also fine. I certainly don't mind having more.'
'As for whether Malcador can find leaders for the Grey Knights, that's none of my concern.
'Hmm... I'm leaving him Balsar Kurthuri as well. If the Grandmasters drop from eight to six, his authority grows, and that will help him better fulfill my tasks.'
Keon digested the flood of information. "By Your will."
Nareth sent Keon back to Terra and leaned back against his throne.
"Tagore, who ripped Custodes apart with his bare hands, and the Founding Grandmasters of the Grey Knights, I will claim them all."
....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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